And again with the A word

I really don’t want to be sitting at my computer right now.

I want to be curled up watching Downton Abbey (slowly making my way through the series on Amazon. Very slowly, but I’m not in any rush.) and knitting. And eating chocolate cake. (The cake will be done in about 15 minutes.)

I don’t want to be doing CHADD stuff–replying to e-mails, being in contact with potential volunteers. There is suddenly a surge of stuff happening. Good stuff. But I can’t deal with it right now.

I feel like everything I knew about ADHD was wrong. I had thought we were dealing with ADHD with Picasso. I really thought he was going to be OK in a “typical” world.

And then … I saw him at the birthday party. He went to a classmate’s party over the weekend. It was clear he didn’t know what to do. The other kids were talking and playing together–and leaving him out. He got some weird looks. And he spent pretty much the whole time hanging on me. It was clear–he is the “weird kid.”

After that, plus some research I did this week, I was pretty much hoping for what happened today. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear, though.

Today was the school’s evaluation meeting. Picasso was given a diagnosis of autism. That label will stick with him, probably for the next twelve years of schooling. It will be teachers’ first impressions of him, even before they meet him in person.

I am angry–angry that this wasn’t caught before he was six; angry that we didn’t pursue more rigorous therapy before now.

I am lost. I know where to turn to get ADHD help. I don’t know where to get him help for autism, or even what help he needs. I want to do something for him, to help him learn to cope, but I am overwhelmed by the information about autism and the different therapies.

At the same time, I am relieved. I think that with this diagnosis, he will start getting more intensive therapy, and hopefully start having friends. His “weird kid” status will be explained. Yes, with a disability label, but I would rather people see his behavior as a disability rather than a choice.

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